In the Face of a Mother
by BrainySmurf6
Summary: Brennan's taken care to make sure her daughter's life is untouched by the darkness that plagued her own childhood.  But as she grows up, parallel moments occur, memories resurface, and questions are asked.  Birthday gift oneshot for my fabulous beta.


_A/N:__ So! I know I'm all over the place with fics lately, but this little oneshot had a very real and very important deadline, so it's taken precedence at the moment. Today is my beta, Biba's (biba79 on here, check her out if you haven't already) birthday, and this fic is her gift. She'd been helping me since "All That You Can't Leave Behind", and I cannot overstate how completely vital she's become to my whole process (in fact, I barely knew what to do with myself this fic, not having her to bounce ideas off of and offer brilliant scene ideas). She's an incredible help, and everything I've posted on here is much, much better for her help._

_We've always joked that someday, she'd get me to write a kid fic, even before a Booth/Brennan baby was more than a fangirl's dream. So when I requested a prompt for her birthday gift, I wasn't surprised it was kid related. Her prompt was "Brennan and her daughter talk about Brennan's past", which gave me a lot of room to run with it. Hope you all like it, and most especially hope that you like it, Biba, because you deserve an awesome fic for all you've done to help me out (and, hey, I followed all my self imposed rules!)_

_This fic is vignette style, and covers a long range of time. For it's purposes, Booth and Brennan's daughter is born in December of 2011. Because I want a Christmas baby so bad I can barely stand it. Without further ado, fic title comes from "This=love" by The Script_

In the Face of a Mother

_It's in the eyes of the children  
>As they leave for the very first time<br>And it's in the heart of a soldier  
>As he takes a bullet on the frontline<br>It's in the face of a mother  
>As she takes the force of a blow<br>And its in the hands of the father yeah  
>As he works his fingers to the bone<em>

…  
><em>This is why we do it<br>This is worth the pain  
>This is why we fall down<br>And get back up again  
>This is where the heart lies<br>This is from above  
>Love is this, this is love<em>

_April, 2016 _

Once she was alone in the kitchen, she started to work quickly, but carefully. Small fingers took care to grip tightly, while the other hand moved the dishrag in slow, thorough circles.

The water was still running, and as she slipped the dish under the water, clearing the suds, she immediately snatched her hand back, the heat of the water surprising her.

In the quick movement, her fingers slid against the soap, fumbling, and the next moment the porcelain plate had clattered against the kitchen tile, shards scattering.

She froze, staring down in dizzying horror at the floor, littered with evidence of destruction.

Then, she carefully stepped over the pieces, and ran from the kitchen.

~(B*B)~

Booth found Brennan standing in the kitchen, surveying the damage, something dazed and faraway about her expression.

"What happened?" Booth asked immediately, coming up behind her, his eyes sweeping the floor.

A plate, or what was left of it, was scattered across the floor in small, sharp pieces. The chair Joanna had been standing on was still in front of the sink, abandoned.

The sound of Booth's voice seemed to pull Brennan back to the present, though it was with noticeable difficulty that she turned away from the mess and focused on him. "What?" Before he repeated himself, though, she continued, "Oh. Jo wanted to help me dry the dishes, and I left the room to answer the phone…she must've dropped one."

Booth smiled a little, fondly. "She took off, huh?"

Brennan's frown only deepened, no hint of amusement on her expression. "She must've…been afraid she'd get into trouble."

Immediately, Booth's smile dropped, clarity descending. He moved closer to Brennan, slipping an arm around her. "Hey..it's okay." He brushed his lips against her temple. "You know how Joanna is. She hates thinking she might've made someone mad." He leaned back, his eyes soft as he looked at Brennan. "You want me to find her and take care of it?"

Brennan shook her head, her smile grateful but resolute. "I should talk to her."

"Hey…" Booth caught Brennan's hand as she headed out of the kitchen. "She's not really scared, you know that, right, Bones? She's a kid. Kids always worry about getting in trouble."

"I know," she told him quietly, giving his fingers a squeeze before heading off to find Joanna, fighting memories of her own fear, so many years ago…a fear she never wanted her daughter to experience.

~(B*B)~

The lights in the playroom were off, but there was the dim, golden glow of a flashlight coming from the blanket fort they'd set up in the center of the room.

Brennan moved quietly across the carpet before dropping to her knees outside the fort. "Jo?" She pushed aside the blankets and stuck her head in.

Joanna was sitting on the opposite end of the 'entrance', her knees drawn up to her chest, three fingers slid into her mouth, always an indication that she was either tired or upset. She had a flashlight set up in the middle of the fort, propped up by stacks of books on each side of it.

"Can I come in?" Brennan asked with a small smile. The four year old girl nodded silently, and Brennan crawled the rest of the way into the fort, expertly ducking to avoid knocking against the blanketed ceiling.

Joanna's wide, blue eyes flitted toward the floor, and even as Brennan settled herself on her knees on the floor, Joanna stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

Finally, Brennan prompted gently, "You want to tell me what happened, baby?"

Joanna lifted her head, expression contrite. "I really didn't mean to, Mommy."

Brennan crawled the length of the carpet, settling herself beside Joanna. "It's okay," she told her encouragingly, weaving her fingers through the little girl's hair.

Painstakingly, Joanna pulled her fingers from her mouth and looked at Brennan reproachfully. "I wanted to finish washing them for you. As a surprise," she explained earnestly. "But the water was _really_, really hot and..the soap was slippy and I just…I dropped it assidently."

Brennan felt her heart constrict at the familiarity of these explanations. In that moment, her daughter's voice, small and desperate, might as well have been her own, cowering in a kitchen, begging against punishment she'd been warned against.

"It's okay," Brennan said quietly, her voice resolutely steady as she continued to stroke Joanna's hair. "Accidents happen sometimes. You didn't do anything wrong."

Tilting her head, expression uncertain, Joanna asked tentatively, "Really?"

"Really." Brennan smiled. "Now…" She pulled Joanna into her lap, and the little girl automatically snuggled against Brennan's chest, her slightly damp, sticky fingers playing absently with Brennan's. "..can you tell me why you ran away?"

"Didn't wanna get in trouble," Joanna mumbled.

"And _why_ did you think you would be in trouble?"

The little girl was quiet for a second, thinking. "Cause you said to wait til you got back to finish."

"Mmm-hmmm," Brennan agreed. "You understand why now?"

Joanna tilted her head back, gazing up at her. "Cause I broke your plate."

"Jo, the _plate_ doesn't matter," Brennan explained gently. "You could have gotten hurt, honey. One of those pieces could have cut you." Brennan caught one of Jo's socked feet, tickling her lightly. "Especially when you tried to step over it."

"Oh," Joanna replied slowly, frowning.

"So you know what you should do next time?"

Joanna took her time, considering carefully, as Brennan always encouraged. Finally, she looked up hopefully. "Call you?"

Brennan smiled. "Exactly. You call me or Daddy, and we'll clean everything up. And hey…" Their eyes, identical, held each other. "…you don't ever have to be afraid to tell us that you made a mistake. You won't get in trouble for an accident…it happens to everyone."

"Did you ever?" Joanna asked with sudden interest.

For a long moment, Brennan was quiet. Then, as mildly as she could, Brennan, "Yes. I did the exact same thing, actually, and I was a good deal older than you are."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Didja get in trouble?"

This time, Brennan's silence lingered. She was thinking about her old insistence about lying to children. The last few years, though, she had learned the benefit, and not just when it came to letting Booth play Santa for Jo.

It was about protection, about letting Joanna live in a world that was happy and safe and untouched by darkness for as long as they could.

So Brennan swallowed against memory, against the recollection of being half dragged, half carried outside, of the way her foster father had bloodied her nose and lip on the journey to the car, of being crammed inside and left there in the cramped, quiet darkness.

"Not too much trouble, no," Brennan replied, unconsciously pulling her daughter closer.

"That's good," Joanna mumbled, a note of exhaustion slipping into her voice now. "Grandpa prob'ly knew it was an accident."

"That's right," Brennan replied quietly. After a moment, she brushed her lips against her daughters forehead. "I love you, Jo."

"Love you, too, Mommy."

Brennan swallowed until her vision cleared, and then she said teasingly, "You aren't sleeping in here tonight, are you?"

Joanna giggled. "_No_."

"Come on, then," Brennan said with a smile, easing the little girl off her lap. "Let's go tell Daddy goodnight."

Joanna nodded amiably, and together they crawled from the darkness of the fort.

~(B*B)~

"You alright?"

Booth's arms slid around Brennan's waist, his chin hooking over her shoulder, and she leaned into him, exhaling slowly.

They were standing in the doorway of Joanna's room. Inside, their daughter was sleeping peacefully with the aid of a skeleton shaped nightlight that only Booth found creepy.

"Do you remember the first day we dropped her off at daycare?" Brennan said softly after a moment.

"Yeah, of course," Booth murmured quietly, surprised by the statement.

"Jo looked so…scared, when we left. And when we came back, she was so relieved like…like she thought we'd left her, like…"

When her voice faltered, Booth finished, "…like your parents did?" Brennan nodded almost imperceptibly. "Hey…" Gently, Booth turned her so she was looking up at him. "She was two, Bones. You've never given her _any_ reason to worry about that."

"It was foolish, I know. Just like tonight was foolish I…I just never want her to be afraid of…"

"Of you? That's never going to happen, Bones…" He pulled her against him immediately. "Look, you know I get it. I've always wanted to…make sure that Parker, and now Jo, never see me lose my temper. I don't want to do anything that makes me seem like my father."

"You _aren't_ like him, Booth," Brennan told him fervently, the reassurance automatic. "Not at all."

Smiling slightly, his thumb grazing her cheekbone, Booth told her, "Neither are you. Like your parents, I mean. And _definitely_ not like any foster parents you ever had." Brennan reached up, entwining their fingers, and Booth brought her knuckles against his lips. "Jo is so, _so_ lucky that you're her mom."

Instantly, a smile formed on Brennan's lips, her eyes shining with gratitude. Booth knew, even now, that this was something she needed to hear.

"Thanks, Booth." she murmured against his lips, kissing his softly before twining her arms around his neck.

_August, 2017_

When Joanna's first day of kindergarten had been thoroughly captured on film, the three of them piled into the car and drove to the school.

Though Booth kept a spirited running commentary the short ride to the elementary school, both Brennan and Joanna were quiet, a rarity for both of them. It was especially unusual for Jo, who had spent weeks eagerly counting the days to her first day at "real school".

They pulled up to the curb across the street from the large brick building, right behind a familiar Italian car.

"JoJo!" An enthusiastic voice called the second they were all out of the car. Michael, standing with his parents, was waving excitedly with one hand, swinging a blue lunch box with the other.

Joanna seemed to relax slightly at the sight of her friend. She smiled back, going over to show him her new backpack.

"Ooh, let's get a shot of the kids together," Angela said with a grin, spotting the camera Booth still had in his hand. He agreed enthusiastically, while Hodgins and Brennan gave each knowing smiles; Angela and Booth's camera happy tendencies were well established.

Sweetly, Michael tucked his hand into Joanna's as they both smiled at the camera, the elementary school making a nice background.

When Angela and Booth seemed satisfied with the result, the group moved toward the school. Joanna walked ahead with Michael, though she cast frequent glances back at her parents, confirming their constant presence.

"Kindergarten and first grade," Angela said wonderingly, smiling at Brennan. "I can't believe it."

"Pretty soon they aren't going to let us walk them up like this," Hodgins observed.

"Yeah, before we know it they'll be like Parker," Booth said wryly. "He'd be dropped off ten blocks away if we'd let him."

"Joanna nervous?" Angela asked in an undertone.

"I think she might be," Brennan replied, her eyes on the braided pigtails hanging behind her daughter's shoulders.

"Just hit her this morning, though," Booth put in, easily threading his fingers with Brennan's as they walked. "She's been thrilled all week."

"She'll like Ms. Holland," Hodgins assured them. "She's good. Really sweet with the kids."

Brennan nodded seriously. "Yes, I was pleased with my research on her academic methods."

Biting back a smile, Angela mimicked Brennan's serious tone. "Everyone's test scores adequate?"

"Well, there aren't statewide standardized test in kindergarten yet, unfortunately, but the information I did find were satisfactory." The others tried not to smile as Brennan went on about promotion rate and reading levels.

Angela and Hodgins didn't go further than the doorway before hugging Michael goodbye and turning to head back to their car. Joanna glanced uncertainly from Michael, waiting for her at the door, to her parents.

"You want us to help you find your classroom, baby?" Booth asked softly.

Hesitating, Joanna again cast her gaze on Michael, obviously not wanting to appear babyish.

"It's okay," Michael informed her importantly. "A lot of the parents go in when you're just in kindergarten."

At that reprieve, Joanna instantly nodded, and Booth and Brennan continued to follow the kids into the school.

The kindergarten hallway was almost immediately inside, bright and welcoming with decorations between the three classrooms. Joanna came to a stop just outside the room she'd visited weeks ago for orientation, but Michael kept walking toward his own first grade classroom. He waved first at Booth, and Brennan, and then smiled at Joanna.

"Bye, JoJo! See ya later."

Watching him retreat, Joanna slowly slid two fingers into her mouth before swinging her wide-eyed, uncertain gaze to her classroom door.

"Joanna," Booth murmured gently, the slightest hint a reprimand in his voice. She immediately withdrew her fingers; they'd nearly broken her of that habit.

"Mommy?" she said suddenly in a small voice, lifting her eyes to Brennan.

Brennan knelt down at the edge of the hallway, eye level with the little girl. "What is it, Jo?"

"I want to go with Michael," she whispered.

Brennan glanced up, exchanging a look with Booth before saying, "Well, honey…Michael's going into first grade. You know that."

"And hey…" Booth bent down, too, glad for the generous width of the hallway as kids and parents shuffled by them. "Kindergarten's _way_ more fun than first grade. You don't want to miss out."

"Remember how much you loved the classroom during orientation?" Brennan reminded her, absently smoothing back an errant strand of Joanna's hair that was too short to go into her braids.

"But I didn't _know_ anybody," Joanna insisted emphatically, blue eyes huge.

"Not yet," Booth agreed with a smile. "But you're going to make a _ton_ of new friends."

Joanna regarded him seriously for a moment, looking doubtful. Then, glancing again at Brennan, she asked in a small voice, "But what if I don't?"

Booth waited expectantly. This was usually Brennan's moment; when it came to anxieties or irrational fears, Brennan had perfected using just the right blend of comfort and logic that almost always calmed Joanna down.

Now, though, Brennan was looking nearly as unsure and conflicted as their daughter.

"Well…" Brennan began finally, as it was clear Joanna was genuinely waiting for an answer. "If you don't make friends with the other kids…when I was in school, I made friends with the janitor."

Booth made a sudden, coughing noise, and Joanna scrunched up her nose in confusion. "Janitor?"

"Yes, he was the man who cleaned the school. He was nice to me, even when the other students weren't. He would find me animals to dissect, and sometimes I would eat lunch with him-"

"Bones," Booth murmured in an undertone, catching her eye and shaking his head.

"Oh." Hastily, Brennan began to backtrack. "But…anthropologically, socialization among peers is extremely important and…that means you should make friends your own age." Brennan smiled. "And you will."

"Yeah, baby," Booth put in. "It's going to be great."

Slowly, Joanna nodded.

"You ready to go in?" Brennan asked gently.

Nodding again, Joanna hugged Booth and then Brennan. When she let go, both of them stood up.

"We love you."

"Aunt Angela's going to come pick you and Michael up at the end of the day, alright?"

"You're gonna be just fine."

Joanna visibly steeled herself, then headed into the classroom with one last glance back at her parents.

Taking Brennan's hand in his, Booth squeezed reassuringly and smiled down at her. "You ready to go?"

"Just a second," Brennan murmured. The corridors of the school were clearing out, and Brennan hovered in the doorway of the classroom, her eyes on her daughter.

Joanna had found the desk with her name on it, and was slowly pulling crayons and pencil boxes and folders out of her backpack. As they watched, the blonde girl at the desk beside her said something to Jo, pointing at the black binder covered with cartoon skeletons (that only Booth found creepy). Joanna said something in reply, and the blonde girl grinned, pulling out her own folders to compare.

Soon, the two five year olds were in an animated conversation, and Booth leaned forward, whispering against Brennan's ear, "See? She's going to be okay, Bones."

"Yeah?"

"Course she is."

"I just…I never want her to feel left out of anything. Or lonely, or…" She trailed off, biting her lip.

Booth slid an arm around Brennan's shoulder, his face soft with understanding. "She won't, Bones. See?"

At that moment, Jo looked up and caught Brennan's eye. She smiled broadly and gave a little wave, clearly proud of herself for her social interaction.

Booth waved back, while Brennan mouthed 'bye' before reluctantly pulling herself away.

_May 2019_

"…and Katie said her mom is letting her invite five people for the sleepover. So I'm one, and Maddie's one, and definitely Brooke cause she's Katie's best friend, but I don't know about the other two."

Brennan smiled , listening intently to every word Joanna said. "Sounds like fun," she commented, then smiled. "Who's _your_ best friend?"

"Hmmmm," Joanna considered it carefully. "Probably Michael, I guess." She frowned. "But I don't know if you're allowed to be best friends with a boy."

At that, Brennan laughed. "Of course it's allowed."

"_You're _not."

"How do you know?" Brennan teased her.

Giggling, Joanna gave Brennan a look that clearly indicating she was being silly. "Mom_my_. Aunt Angela isn't a _boy_."

"That's true," Brennan agreed seriously.

Joanna leaned against Brennan, her hands diving into their picnic basket for another juice box. "Did you _ever_ have a boy best friend?"

"Hmmmm…" Brennan murmured absently, thinking. She didn't mention that, even when she was Joanna's age, best friends, or any friends at all, had been scarce, something that only got worse as she entered middle and high school.

After a moment, though, she just smiled. "I have, actually."

"Who?"

"Your dad."

Joanna immediately started laughing as though this was the funniest thing she ever heard. She tilted her head back to gaze up at her mom, breathlessly protesting between giggles, "Mom_my_. That doesn't count. Daddy can't be your best friend."

"Why not?" Brennan asked, mock affronted.

"Be_cause_." She made a face. "You _kiss_ and stuff."

Brennan grinned at that reasoning. "Yes, but before we started to kiss and stuff, we were already partners at work, and Daddy was probably my best friend." She dropped her voice, conspiratorial, "Just don't tell Aunt Angela, okay?"

"Okay," Joanna whispered back. Then, she added earnestly, "So Michael _can_ be my best friend I guess. But I don't want to start _kissing him_."

"That's very sensible, Jo, given your age. Especially in this culture," Brennan informed her seriously. Joanna looked pleased at this, but Brennan was hiding a smile, thinking of Angela's frequent comments that she was already planning the wedding.

"Yeah. Plus, it's gross," Joanna added. She sat up suddenly, expression hopeful. "Can we have the surprise dessert now?"

"Sure." Brennan said with a smile, reaching into the bottom of the picnic basket and pulled over a large, covered Tupperware container. As soon as she opened it, Joanna's eyes lit up.

"Chocolate cake!"

Brennan smiled, carefully cutting a piece of the cake. "I told you you'd like it."

"Thanks, Mommy," Joanna said automatically as Brennan passed her a plate. She wiggled back on the blanket until she could crawl onto Brennan's lap.

Brennan rested her chin lightly on the crown of Joanna's head, her eyes on the waves. "When my mother and I had beach picnics, we always had chocolate cake for dessert."

"Your mom took you on beach picnics, too?"

"She did. I loved them."

"I love them, too," Joanna said decisively, swallowing a bite of chocolate cake. "Did you have them on the beach so you would see dolphins?"

"I don't think so," Brennan replied. "It's difficult to see them from the shore like this…_but_ dolphins were her favorite thing about the ocean."

"I know, Grandpa told me she loved them," Joanna informed her. She reached out with the hand not covered in chocolate and touched Brennan's finger, absently twisting her silvery dolphin ring. "And so do you."

"That's true."

"And me!" Jo beamed up at her. "So you're like _your_ mom, and I'm like you."

Brennan smiled, pulling Joanna a little closer. "You're exactly right."

For the next few minutes they were quiet, as Joanna finished her cake and Brennan contentedly nibbled on her own piece.

After awhile, Joanna tentatively broke the silence. "Mommy?"

"Yeah, Jo?'

"Do you miss your mom?"

Brennan took her time answering, unsure of what, exactly, Max, who was Joanna's main informant about Christine Brennan, had told the little girl about what happened to her grandmother. "Well, she's been gone for a long time, Jo. But…yes, I do still miss her sometimes."

Joanna was quiet for a moment. Then, she set her empty plate on the picnic blanket and shifted in Brennan's lap so she could slide her arms around Brennan's waist. "It's okay, Mommy. I'll go on more beach picnics with you."

Brennan smiled, craning her neck to drop a kiss on Joanna's forehead. "You will, huh?"

"Yeah, _definitely_. This was fun." She twisted to smile up at Brennan. "And dolphin stuff, too."

"Dolphin stuff…" Brennan repeated laughingly. "Okay. You remember what I told you about dolphins?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Joanna leaned against Brennan's chest again, reciting, "They're mammals even though they live in the ocean. They use, um…_echolocation_ to find food and to swim around. They're warm blooded, and they eat fish."

"You got it." Brennan dropped her voice mischievously, "But did you know there's a dolphin in the sky?"

Joanna drew back, her eyes wide. "For _real_?"

"Well, not literally, of course. But it's almost like there's a picture of one...it's a constellation called Delphinus."

Immediately, Joanna craned her neck, gazing eagerly up at the sky, which was tinged pink and orange with the first hints of a sunset.

Smiling, Brennan nodded. "If you want to stay here for a little while longer, we can try to find it when it gets dark."

Joanna scrambled eagerly to her feet. "Yes, please! I don't wanna go anyway…" She started to rummage around in their beach bag, triumphantly emerging with a kite she'd packed for the day. "Can we fly it?"

"We can definitely try," Brennan agreed, standing up and quickly packing away the remnants of their dinner.

Soon, she and Joanna had kicked off their sandals on the blanket and were running down the beach, bare feet kicking up sand, the kite, blue and covered in shiny, silver dolphin pictures, billowing behind them as they waited for the stars.

_December 2026_

"_Mom_," Joanna muttered, somehow infusing the word with several extra syllables. She flinched slightly, sliding away from Brennan, who had wrapped her arms around her daughter from behind.

She swept her eyes across the tree lot, looking for Booth. "Are we almost done?"

"Ask your dad," Brennan said dryly. "He's the one who insists on a tree with the perfect dimensions."

Just then, Booth popped out from behind a tree, halfway up the hill in front of them. "Bones! Joanna! Come here, I think I might have found _the one_."

Joanna sighed, staring down at her cell phone to check the time. Brennan looped her arm through her daughter's, leading her toward Booth. Joanna rolled her eyes slightly, but she didn't pull away.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Brennan asked lightly. "You're usually as fastidious about the Christmas tree as your dad."

"Katie and Emma and some other people want to go shopping," Joanna told her distractedly.

Immediately, Brennan stiffened, her expression darkening. "Tonight?"

"Yeah, Katie's sister said she'd drive us." Joanna looked over, then, frowning at the look on her mother's face. "I mean, if it's okay?"

Attempting a light tone, Brennan countered, "Maybe you should just stay home tonight, Jo…help decorate the tree."

"Oh, it always takes Dad hours to get it set up and the lights on and everything anyway. I'll be back by then."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

Pursing her lips, Joanna pulled away, coming to an immediate stop. "_Why_? You can't just make definitive statements without a reason."

Brennan sighed, recognizing the tone of her own words, from some long ago argument, parroted back at her. Joanna's memory could be frustrating during debates. "I just don't like the idea of you going shopping so late."

"Mom, I am going to be _fifteen_ next week."

Brennan frowned, confused. "I don't see how that's relevant."

"It means I'm old enough to go shopping with my friends. Plus some of the guys are meeting us there, and Michael's going…Aunt Angela and Uncle Jack let _him_," she insisted heatedly.

"Again, I don't see how that's relev-"

"But why _not_?"

"_Jo_. Just…not tonight, alright?" Brennan repeated quietly.

Sighing in frustration, Joanna turned and stomped the rest of the way toward her dad, Brennan following.

Booth lifted his eyebrows as they approached. "Everybody okay?"

"Ask _Mom_," Joanna said sulkily, moving past him to circle the tree.

As Brennan approached, Booth took one look at her face and immediately frowned in concern. "You okay?" She nodded mutely, and Booth prodded quietly, "What happened?"

"Later," she said softly, coming up beside him to look at the tree herself.

~(B*B)~

"Can you just talk to her or something?" Joanna begged.

She was riding home from the tree lot with Booth, who had met them there after going to borrow a truck from an FBI agent he knew from work. Their Christmas tree was now tied securely in the back, and Brennan was following behind them.

"No way, honey, I'm not touching that one," Booth said with an apologetic smile. "Your mom says no, it's no."

Joanna sighed, frustrated. "I don't _get _it. It's not typical behavior, either…_you're_ usually the overprotective, irrational one."

"_Hey_." Booth threw her a mock offended look, but he was suppressing a grin at how Bones-esque his daughter sounded.

"Well, it's true," she said. "But she always gets like this every year…all cuddly, but also controlling. And I don't understand why."

Slowly, Booth's face softened, "You're the little genius, sweetheart. Think about it."

Joanna leaned back in her seat, concentrating. "I don't know…is it because my birthday's so close? The whole…growing up so fast thing?"

Booth laughed. "No, but not a bad try…you are getting freakishly old."

Her lips curled. "You're one to talk, old man."

"Ooh…" Booth clutched his chest, wincing. "That hurt."

Joanna grinned, but it faded quickly as she continued to think. "Is it Christmas, then?"

"Something like that," Booth said gently. "You know, it probably wouldn't hurt to just ask Mom yourself."

~(B*B)~

Something about the look on her dad's face in the car had buried Joanna's irritated mood. As the three of them decorated the Christmas tree that night, she was pleasant, but somewhat quiet, with Brennan, unsure of how to bring up what she and Booth had talked about.

The night passed with no real opportunity to broach the subject, and Joanna felt awkward bringing it up after her attitude at the tree lot. So when she went to bed that night, she hadn't mentioned the shopping trip again, but she hadn't mentioned much of anything else, either.

Joanna was somewhat surprised, then, when her door cracked open nearly a half hour after she'd retreated to her room. She was lying in her bed, reading by lamplight, when Brennan slowly eased herself into the room, a tentative smile on her face.

"Just wanted to say goodnight, Jo," Brennan told her quietly.

"Oh. Okay. Night, Mom."

"I love you, babe."

"Love you, too." Before she could shut the door, Joanna blurted, "Mom?"

Brennan paused, expectant. "Yes?"

"I…I'm sorry about earlier. I know I was a pain."

Immediately, Brennan's eyes went soft around the edges. "You don't need to apologize…I recognize that I was being a bit irrational not allowing you to go."

"It wasn't that important," Joanna mumbled, something like shame burning in her chest at her overreaction.

Brennan's tone was thoughtful as she continued, "I realize I've been somewhat…overprotective lately. I'll try to be more aware of that."

"Mom?" Joanna ventured in a small voice. "What is it about Christmas?"

In the sliver of light from the doorway, Joanna could make out the surprise on her mother's face. Still, Brennan recovered quickly. "You've noticed?"

"Yes," Joanna admitted, almost embarrassed.

Brennan seemed to be debating with herself, but then she quietly closed the door behind her. "Can I come sit?"

Joanna nodded immediately, and soon Brennan was crawling into bed beside her, just like she used to do when Joanna was little and wouldn't fall asleep without a bedtime story, usually followed by one (or both) of her parents laying with her until she fell asleep.

Now, Joanna moved close to her mom on the bed, their shoulders touching, the extent of her teenage affection these days. Brennan, though, reached out almost absently and lightly stroked Joanna's hair, and something about the soft, gentle touch made the girl's chest tighten. She felt about five years old, and for just a second she didn't mind at all.

Brennan took her time starting. She knew Joanna had bits and pieces of knowledge, mostly thanks to Max and occasionally Booth, but not the whole story.

Joanna knew now that Max was a former criminal, a bank robber (he was shockingly unashamed of this bit of history, and in fact seemed perversely proud of himself). She knew this was why Brennan's mother had been killed. And she knew Brennan had spent at least some limited time in foster care, though Brennan knew from a passing comment last year that Joanna assumed the foster care had been due to Max and Christine's jail time, and hadn't been very lengthy.

Brennan hadn't wanted to correct her.

Now, though, she finally began with the true story. "When I was your age…a little older, actually, I was fifteen already…my parents went out Christmas shopping and didn't come back."

Startled by this revelation, Joanna twisted, staring at Brennan. "What?"

"it was only a few weeks before Christmas day. They left me with Russ and said they'd be a few hours but…they never planned to come back."

Joanna's eyes were huge. This information did not fit with history as she'd understand it, and her stomach clenched unpleasantly. "But…did something happen to them?"

"I thought so," Brennan replied quietly. "They found our car, a few weeks later. Abandoned, and blood on the seat, like they'd been attacked." She swallowed hard, setting her jaw. "Remember, I didn't know anything about what they really did…to my knowledge, my father was a science teacher, my mother was a bookkeeper, and we were like any typical family." Her voice nearly a whisper, she added, "And suddenly they were just gone."

Just hearing the catch in her mother's voice made Joanna's throat constrict. She leaned against Brennan now, pressing her cheek against her shoulder, voice muffled as she asked, "How old was Uncle Russ?"

"He was nineteen. Legally an adult, so we were allowed to stay in the house for the next few weeks. It didn't take long to realize the investigation wasn't going well. There was never new information, and of course we never heard from them."

Brennan paused, drawing a breath. Her fingers returned to their gentle movements against Joanna's hair, and she felt the fourteen year old nestle closer to her.

"Then, on Christmas morning…apparently, on Christmas Eve, Russ snuck downstairs and turned on all the decorations and…he'd found our presents, from our parents, and he set them up, trying to make Christmas for me."

She paused, and Joanna glanced up at her mom, but immediately looked away at the pained expression on her face. After a moment, Brennan continued, "But when I came downstairs the next morning and saw everything I…I thought it meant that…my parents had come back."

Brennan's voice was unsteady now, and Joanna squeezed her eyes shutting, still taking refuge against the soft, cotton material of her mom's shirt.

"When I saw it was just Russ…I kind of lost it. I broke down crying and I…I started yelling at him. I even knocked ornaments off the tree. I refused to open any gifts until my parents came back and Russ…it's like he thought he wasn't enough family for me. About a week later, I woke up one morning and he had…packed all these suitcases. So I asked where we were going and he said…he said I wasn't coming with him."

Joanna lifted her head at that. "What?"

"He moved out West to find some work and…that's when I went into the foster system."

"For how long?" Joanna asked tremulously. This, too, did not line up with her assumed history.

"The next three years. Until I graduated high school."

"Uncle Russ just left you?"

"He was only nineteen, baby," Brennan reminded her gently. "It took me a long time to forgive him but I…I didn't make it easy on him. Staying, I mean."

"I'm sorry," Joanna said, her voice catching. There were tears shining in Brennan's eyes, and they triggered Joanna's as naturally as any reflex.

"You don't need to be," Brennan said soothingly. "But see, Jo…for a long time…Christmas for me was about losing my family. And I hated it so much."

"I won't go shopping with my friends. I don't have to." Joanna promised thickly.

"It's okay," Brennan told her gently. "Christmas make me a bit…clingy, I suppose, because the memories are more prevalent this time of year…but I don't certainly hate it anymore. And I no longer associate it with loss."

"How come?"

"Well, first, it was because your dad came along. And he loved Christmas, and he taught me that it was about family and…being with the people you love. And for the first time in so long…I had that again. But you know what else happened to altar my view?"

"What?" Joanna asked, voice muffled. Brennan reached out, touching her cheek and making her look up at her.

"You were born. Just a week before Christmas. And suddenly…my family was perfect." Brennan smiled through her tears, lowering her voice, "And you know I don't use that adjective frivolously."

Then Jo was hugging her, harder than she had in several years, her face buried against Brennan's neck. "I love you."

Brennan held her daughter, rocking her in her lap as though she was still a little girl. "I love you, too, Jo. So much."

After a long moment, Joanna drew back, her blue eyes fierce and wet. "I meant it, though. I won't go shopping before Christmas. I won't go anywhere without you if you don't want me to."

"Oh, honey, you don't have to do that. I shouldn't have been worried about you going with your friends." Brennan tucked a lock of hair behind Joanna's eyes. "As long you promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Just promise me you'll always come back."

_A/N: Thanks for reading and, as always, I would LOVE to hear what you think. Happy birthday again to Biba, greatest beta of all time ever. And (in an awards show moment) also want to thank Ellie, if you're reading, for some great suggestions for this one. Expect updates of "Truth" and "Walking By" very shortly. Thanks for reading!_


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